


Cherries

by complexgods



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: (kinda?), 1917, Angst, Canon Compliant, Hurt No Comfort, One Shot, Other, Recovery, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:20:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23104630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/complexgods/pseuds/complexgods
Summary: Recovery after the Great War wasn’t easy, for anyone. The world had lost a lot of good people, and who gained from it? No one. No one that really mattered, at least. After a year, Will started finding his old self again. He was happy to be back with his wife and children, of course, but somehow he felt… empty. Every day he missed the people who have fought alongside him and who have died. But most of all, he missed Blake.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Cherries

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written properly in about 6 months but I got so sad because of this absolutely beautiful film, I had to write something. I hope you enjoy!

The cold water surrounded him as the gunfire echoed in the distance. He was safe; everything was going to be alright. Well – it was going to be alright somehow, someday. He let his head fall just so that his ears were under the icy water. Stillness. He felt the exhaustion of the mission weigh on him heavier than his soaked uniform and almost allowed himself to rest for good. _Almost._ He battled his consciousness in trying to stay awake and tried to remember what he was staying alive for. _Who_ he was staying alive for. Before he could form the words in his head, the answer was floating on the water beside him. Cherry blossoms. His heart sank and broke at the sight of them. “ _Blake_.” He whispered to himself, so quiet not even he could fully hear his voice. He had to find the Devons. He had to save anything that Blake held dear. He managed to gather up his strength and got to the shore. He had no idea where he was walking, but as soon as he heard a voice singing, he knew he had to follow it. As he found the group of soldiers sitting on the grass, leaning on trees, listening to the angelic voice he had followed before, he allowed himself to listen with them. No one said a word and only the wind rustling through the trees kept the lonely singer’s voice company. He closed his eyes, listening.

“ _I’m going there to see my mother_

_And all my loved ones who’ve gone on_

_I’m only going over Jordan_

_I’m only going over home.”_

Recovery after the Great War wasn’t easy, for anyone. The world had lost a lot of good people, and who gained from it? No one. No one that mattered, at least. After a year, Will started finding his old self again. He was happy to be back with his wife and children, of course, but somehow he felt… empty. Every day he missed the people who have fought alongside him and who have died. But most of all, he missed Blake. Tom Blake, who always told funny stories and never lost hope in the world. Blake, who knew so much about the little things, and who cared too much. Will wrote to Tom’s mother, just like he said he would. He made a promise to himself that he would go visit her if he got out of the War alive, to tell her how truly brave her son was. He spent a few nights there, to Mrs Blake’s insistence. As he saw the tall cherry trees in the garden, he couldn’t help but smile. It hurt his heart to remember the moments before Tom’s death, yet he found comfort in it. The trees were still there and he knew that they were going to bloom for many years to come. Before he went home, Mrs Blake gave him a cherry stone and told him to plant it, in her son’s honour. He did. The tree grew to be one of the most beautiful cherry trees in the neighbourhood. In the summer, Will and his daughters would pick the cherries off the trees and put them in neat little baskets so they could bring them to the neighbours, who always appreciated the fruit.

Often, when Will was alone, he would go into the garden and speak to the tree. He knew that it seemed weird or even crazy but sometimes, he would feel as if Tom was there with him, listening and laughing at his stories. Because now it was Will’s turn to keep them entertained and he did his best to keep up his friend’s legacy.

“Good morning, Blake. It’s a beautiful day today, isn’t it? I can finally feel the sunshine on my face without worrying that you’d bring me into any trouble.” He smiled, biting back tears. “Daisy’s birthday is tomorrow. She’s going to be all of 12 years old. Can you believe it? She wanted to have a big party, but I’m not ready for that, there will be too many people around. I know it sounds silly, but since the War, I can’t really have any loud noises around, you know? I wouldn’t mind having you here, though. You always knew how to make me laugh even after the bad days. I really–“

He couldn’t bring himself to continue that sentence. He knew he missed Tom but it was something more than that. He wished he had more time with him, he wished he could have saved him. He knew that there was no point in dwelling, yet he often felt guilty that he had to survive when his best friend lay there, dying. He looked at the tree for a while, and took a deep breath before leaning against the tree, with his eyes closed he soaked in the sunlight, remembering why he was grateful to be alive. Although he missed his comrades, he knew he would see them again someday. He knew that when his time will come he will see Blake again and that was enough.


End file.
